


GlitterStim Brandy

by CorellianSea



Category: Archer (Cartoon), Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Comedy, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, M/M, Sexual Humor, after rotj, random guest star: Sterling Archer, sw crack, utter chaos when han actually gets drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 15:13:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6962125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorellianSea/pseuds/CorellianSea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <span class="small">“It’s not called slurring your words. It’s called talking in cursive and it’s fucking <i>elegant.”</i> Han attempted in pointing a finger toward Luke, however, under his heavily influenced state, Han ended up sticking his finger straight into Luke’s mouth.</span>
  <br/>
  <span class="small">Edit 5.29.16: I spelled my own title wrong omfg fixed some typos too!</span>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	GlitterStim Brandy

 

“Han please walk straight, I can’t carry you!”

“I am tryin' to walk straight, but this damn planet is drunk!”

“Try harder!” Luke lugged the man away from the seedy bar he’d been devastating for the past 6 hours until Luke found him nearly passed out on the floor. “If you don’t, you’re gonna fall again.”

“I didn't fall... the floor just needed a hug.”

Luke rolled his eyes as he held Han Solo steady and yelped when the man lurched forward, taken aback by the sudden movement and hoping to the gods that Han wouldn’t be tossing his dinner so close to his shoes.

“Han! Are you alright? Just how many beers did you even have?”

“I've had... eleventy-twelve beers.”

Luke stopped his movements, slanting a look of incredulity toward Han who’d practically rested all of his weight over his shoulder. The Jedi tried to not let his knees buckle, but he was 5’7 and Han was a Kashyyykian log coming down to crush him. “Are you kidding me? Please tell me you’re joking! Why did you get this drunk? What’s on your mind?”

“There was this… _asshole_ \- thought he was the coolest thing since… sonic dish washers. Wanted to beat ‘em up.” Han raised the arm that wasn’t hooked over Luke’s neck and shook it ruefully.

“Is that why you have a split nose?” Luke touched the side of Han’s face, wanted to inspect it but also too afraid to touch the wound that crusted over with dried blood. He hauled Han over to a public bench, ignoring the curious stares from the Coruscanti underworld. Probably wasn’t a great place to rest at but Luke was tired of holding Han up.

“...But then I remember that _alcohol_ existed."

Luke blinked away the sweat that attacked his eyes and then tilted his head in confusion. “What? What did you say? Han, c’mon. Speak more clearly. You’re slurring so bad I don’t think heard the first half of your sentence. Say again?”

“It’s not called slurring your words. It’s called talking in cursive and it’s fucking _elegant_.” Han attempted in pointing a finger toward Luke, however, under his heavily influenced state, Han ended up sticking his finger straight into Luke’s mouth who immediately choked from the invading appendage.

“Ack! Ew, Han! What the hell?!” Luke jumped back on the bench, spitting out nothing in particular and briefly wondered what made Han’s finger taste so salty. While scrubbing the back of his hand to his tongue, Luke saw a peculiar glint in Han’s eyes. Foreboding, hazel eyes dimmed significantly.

Luke swallowed, suddenly feeling nervous with how Han had yet to even set his finger back down, much less his arm.

_He isn’t gonna stick it back in my mouth… right?_

Tense silence.

“Wanna know what rhymes with drunk? Sex.”

“Oh gods, Han, why this-”

"You're so drunk when I'm pretty." Han paused to think, knowing what he said sounded a bit off, “I mean when i’m pretty you’re so drunk.”

“That’s not any better.”

“Hey kid, I gotta deathstick in my pants. ...Whadda I do with it?”

“We really need to get you home.”

 

It took ten minutes to find a cab that could take them to the surface levels, and another fifteen to get Han to enter the elevators that led up to the level where they lived.

Han stumbled through the front door and somehow slid across the living room without the aid of someone keeping him upright. Luke still scrambled behind to catch up to his stupid boyfriend.

“Your kitchen is so far away. Who designed this shit?”

“You missed the egress to the kitchen three times, Han. You’ve been walking right past the entrance and going in a circle!” The exasperation was apparent in Luke’s voice. After a long day of training his students, he’d wanted to go home and sleep. Only, Han was missing and so was a good portion of their shared bank account.

“Ahhh~” Han sounded refreshed as he quaffed down cold liquid. “Nothing tastes as good as drunk feels."

The weird edge in Luke’s voice made him stop and look over at the short Jedi.

“Put down the vase, Han.” Luke said coolly, taking slow steps toward the man while keeping his splayed hands level to his waist, coaxing a crazed beast. “That was my mother’s. You are drinking my plant water.”

Han squinted at Luke before looking back at the weirdly huge cup he had in his hands. He glared at the bright red flowers that suddenly seemed to materialize out of thin air. He glared at the flora, feeling utterly betrayed. Han’s heart wrenched from the sight.

How could Luke’s mother do this to him?!

He took a breath and shook his head. Was there shame in his voice? “It's 10:30 and I'm already fucking wasted…?”

Luke seemed relieved that Han said something that was actually intelligible since the whole thing started. When Han set down the vase, Luke began to ponder if Han had become a little more coherent. “Blast, Han, I’ve never seen you this drunk. You’re worrying me.”

“I'm not as drunk as I use to was.” Came the instant reply.

Luke pinched the bridge of his nose. _Never mind._

“Your cat... has it always had a Huttese accent?”

Luke looked up to see Han touching R2’s dome carefully, looking at the droid like he’d never seen it before. Halfway through the first word of his reply, Luke dropped his jaw when Han began to passionately kiss the astromech’s revolving top. R2 squealed and rocked around, punching Han in the face with it’s whole upper half. The smuggler grumbled before wrapping his arms and legs around the surprisingly strong droid, passionately making out with the red receiver that actually served as R2’s visual feed. Now it was blind and panicked.

“R2 no!” Luke threw out an arm but did nothing more than that. The charged electric rod hovered close to Han’s form and he worried the man would be stunned too severely by the charge. He shriveled when Han nuzzled closer to the astromech, his body was lifted off the ground and it didn’t look like he was ready to relinquish his spot.

Luke padded slowly over to Han, worried about sudden movements. Han couldn’t possibly be just drunk! Something else was in the works here…

“Han? ...I need you to get off R2 right now. Can you do that for me? He’s feeling realllllly uncomfortable right now...”

Han tore himself away from the passion he’d been dealing to look at a guy he felt like he’d met before. “Oh hey, you! Damn, sorry, I've been cheating on you with a guy named Luke. He's a Jedo. ...Jedi? I think.”

Luke cringed in second hand embarrassment, the tone Han used was higher pitched. “Uh… I… Okay? So what now?”

"We are best friends now. Yeah c'mere, let's get drunk again." Han grinned.

“You’re _still_ drunk! You’re about to have sex with my astromech!”

“Let me love my lover, _gods_.” Han bumped his cut nose against the cold metal and tears pricked his eyes.

“How will you love an R2 unit?! Suck his retractable splicer?!”

“If you can’t suck a cigarette, you sure as hell can’t suck a dick!”

As if on cue, R2’s arm transformed into a splicer, one end lit in a temperature high enough to cut through thick metals. Well, it did resemble a cigarette…

Luke actually hoped that would be a strong enough warning for Han to let go and get away from the apparent danger. Thankfully, to both Luke and R2’s utter relief, Han scrambled away and stood across the room looking like he’d seen a ghost.

Quickly, Luke shuffled the droid into the hallway to their bedroom, telling him to hide there while he handled this. R2 beeped unhappily, anxiously, but scooted off anyway, too afraid that Han might come back to molest it.

Luke watched his beloved droid off and let out a bated breath. Okay, that was solved…

“Why do people wear boxers? They’re just like small pants.”

The blond turned around simultaneous to Han gesturing toward his own underwear, his pants completely gone from his tall lanky frame and thrown up onto the sky light fixture above them. Bewilderment struck Luke over more accounts he could put his finger on.

Their gazes met and there was a look of abrupt recognition in Han’s eyes.

“Luke, shit. Take me drunk I’m home.”

 

Luke slapped his hand to his face.

 

The Next Morning

 

Sterling Archer sat back in the bar with his circle of friends, wondering where the hell the night before had gone. His coworker or friend, he couldn’t ever remember- Cheryl or some shit like that- punched him in the arm and yelled.

“Where’s my Glitterstim Brandy!?”

Archer spit out his drink when another one of her punches landed near his stomach. “Your what?” He wiped his mouth and called for another hit before she could leave. No way was he going to pay for another drink she’d made him waste. “What the hell is Glitterstim Brandy?”

Her blue eyes narrowed and she shrieked, “It’s like- the strongest spiced drink you can like- get- like- _ever_! Give it back! Where is it?!”

“Oh shit.” A million flashbacks hit him at once. There was a spacer… Some idiot named Han Solo. That guy thought he was the coolest thing since sonic dish washing- _yeah_ , that freaking _asshole_.

They’d challenged each other to a drinking game, see who knew the most about smuggling and general trade. Or was it about piloting? Archer tried remembering the blackness of the night before. “I used it for a drinking game yesterday. What the hell is it? I don’t even remember last night.” He let out a breathless chuckle as he shook his head, the recollections still slamming his mind.

Cheryl stomped her foot, “It’s  _spice_ you big dummy! Glitterstim is like… concentrated spice in liquid form! Like when LSD was still around the galaxy! Ugh- there goes my cut, you stupid idiot!”

Oh, well shit. No wonder he couldn’t remember shit about last night.

“What about my Glitterstim?!”

“Aren’t you rich though?” Archer lifted a brow, addressing the well known fact she often forgot by reason of the fact she constantly surrounded herself with people that obviously weren’t wealthy.

Suddenly placated, her mouth formed into a small circle of remembrance and she giggled. “Oh yeah!”

When she skipped away singing, Archer cupped his chin in thought for a long and hard moment- _phrasing_ \- before nodding to himself.

 

Yep, gonna have to find that guy and challenge him to a _real_ drinking battle.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, GlitterStim is real in the sw universe.   
>  This is a birthday gift but I decided to post it here too! I was given a list of straight up pre-made dialogue and made a fic out of it. (probably why some of this is just .. wow) I tried to be as cracky as possible since this is my first crack!fic!   
>  If you're still reading this, thank you for reading this horrible, horrible mess.   
>  Please comment if you liked it! It means a lot.   
>  Tbh, anyone think Archer and Han would be friends though? Hah!


End file.
